


Corinthians

by EmptyBliss



Series: Corinthians [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Bliss (Far Cry), Drowning, F/M, Slow Burn, Threats, Violence, Will update tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmptyBliss/pseuds/EmptyBliss
Summary: Deputy Dahlia Juarez finds her self in a game with John Seed after she reluctantly helps him.
Relationships: Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed
Series: Corinthians [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195505
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> New series cause I am a clown. First part but the next chapter will have more and eventually down the road smut!  
> Enjoy. Feedback welcomed.

Everything was in a daze. Completely disoriented from the Bliss bullets that pounded into her skin. Like pellets of a paintball, she could already feel the bruising from where she was hit hours before. Hours or days, Dahlia didn’t know. The heaviness differed from what she encountered up north and to the east. Jacob’s hunters used arrows over bullets and whatever he pumped into her skull or blood was so much more excruciating; all she had felt was pure pain and as if there was fire seeping into her veins. Part of her thanked god this strain of Bliss was so less potent and only fogged her senses then shredding her mind and body.

Dahlia thought she had outran the hunting party sent by the herald of Holland Valley. His squirrely and slick voice seething through the radio when he called her out, not by name but to his band cultists. Telling them someone was playing unfair and was a murderer. Clearly referring to Dahlia and her work undermining his resources. So when he said she would be found and punished, she could sense the slight resentment in his voice. 

And when she heard, “ _ It’s deputy hunting season _ ,” it was seconds after a truck bum rushed her with loud cult music and bright fog lights overwhelmed her senses. Raining down the rapid fire of Bliss bullets pounding into her skin, Dahlia fell quickly to the ground. Her cheek splitting from the impact, the last thing she hears is Sharky Boshaw calling out to her, “Dep! Wake up, DJ!” But likely being dragged off by Hurk Jr. And the cheering of the Chosen that slung her over his shoulder.

Whispers and mutters waking her to her senses a little, “It’s the deputy.... It’s the sinner...” she couldn’t make much more sense of it when she felt someone drag her and mention cleansing waters. Feeling herself slip from reality again, but coming to when she felt someone’s hand on her neck shoving her into raw, intense cold water. Dahlia couldn’t fight it with her hands bound, so she tried to hold her breath as she could hear some muffled voice. One that was familiar and made her face hot. 

The hand on her neck yanked her up, and she immediately gasped for air. Whimpering and shaking from the raw crisp air. Pressing her hands to her chest when she came to reality when she could hear the faint voice more speaking clearly of atonement as the Peggie to her side urged Dahlia forward. It was the bliss in her system that had her compliance and she followed him, and the weaselly voice became clearer, “....in the light of god…” And when her vision becomes clear, her little heart sinks and her stomach turns. 

_ No no no nononono _ , Dahlia cursed herself as she watched the source of the small sermon brush his thumbs on her fellow prisoners’ forehead. She dragged her feet to stall any interaction and try to avoid John Seed as much as possible. And when he shut his overzealous Book of Joseph (Book of Hoe, Sharky called it), his deep blue eyes peered up at her as she tried to fight her way from him.

His hand stopped the escort who held her by her shoulders, “No. Not her.” Handing the book to the other man, his eyes gave her a once over before boring into her mediocre brown eyes. Plain compared to his.

“This one’s not clean.” And the small silence that he had when the peggie let go, the fear she felt was too much. Dahlia could throw up from all the stress and anxiety that pooled in her belly.

The Baptist eyes wandered her expression as she shivered, from cold and fear, she couldn’t process fast enough when he grabbed her hard by her shoulders and shoved her back into the water. She fell to her back and tried to hold her breath as John kept her down, her bounded hands grabbing a fistful of his tacky vest. Tugging and pushing him off as he just held her squirming body down in the icy river. 

Gasping and coughing when he pulled her up for air. His hands rushed quickly from her arms to Dahlia’s jaw and hair, watching her as she choked in sobs. Gasping for air. With a pleased smirk, the herald only shushed her with a sickening “ _ Shhhhh _ ”.

He was nothing like the little video he put out to taunt the Junior Deputy, Dahlia Juarez. DJ, for short. 

Yes, he was unsettling; yes, he made her skin crawl. Yes, he was handsome and sickening. But he was calm and serious, not at all what she saw in front of her.

She heard him smack his lips at her. As if it disappointed him that she couldn’t take his torment. Shaking his head and letting out a small sigh, saying nothing and it was the silence from him that terrified her.

Jacob always talked in the times they hauled her off to the Veteran’s Center; Faith serenaded her always when she was in the Bliss or even just traveling in the Henbane. Even the Father radioed her consistently, spilling out sermons and trying to coax her into rethinking her actions. Sharky always had to take her radio and taunt Joseph in return. All the family was so vocal.

So his silence induced such a fear in her and didn’t prepare Dahlia when she felt him roughly delve her into the water once more. Trying to fight it as he held her down almost to the bottom, her legs kicked out and the pain of the sharp rocks on her back. She couldn’t handle much more of this abuse, and as it went on, she could feel herself slip into unconsciousness.

Before she could pass out, he quickly pulled her from the cleansing waters. Putting his hand over her mouth as if to catch something that she would spit up as Dahlia gagged and cried for air. Her fist tightly on his clothes, she didn’t realize she had been keeping a hold on to his vest. 

John’s hand was still on her back, but when she peeked up to glare at him, she saw his attention was down to the Blissed waters. His eyes softened and wide while he pressed his lips together. The wickedness she just experienced was gone, and what it left was a timid young man. 

“You have to love them, John.” A voice booms, one she hated. One that she had been hearing all over Hope county since she slapped the cuffs on him and he still escaped his fate. Joseph held his hand out to John. Scolding him, “Do not let your sin prevent you from seeing that.” Dahlia could feel John’s hand fall from her face, watching it balling into a tight fist and putting it to his side while the other still pressed to her back. The violent shaking made her question if she had felt his thumb graze her back a bit, but she couldn’t think of anything from so afraid and cold.

When Joseph called to the two men at her side to bring Dahlia to him, she felt the hold she had on John’s clothes slip away when the peggie brought her to the Father. John’s eyes digging into her while his lips pressed together. Following her closely when Joseph held her once again by her shoulders.

He spoke to her the same thing he has been during this Reaping; words of salvation and faith, that God has a plan for Dahlia and she needed to think hard on her actions. Looking down to her shaking and soaked body, her eyes red and lips blue. She flinched hard and away when Joseph’s thumb brushed the gash on her cheek, squirming her head away and bumping back into John.

Joseph gave John explicit instructions that she would be sure to reach atonement, if not then Eden’s gates would close to him. Pressing their foreheads together. A warning, a scold, and John kept his eyes to the ground. Muttering something to Joseph when the preacher gives her a look. Eyeing her closely and giving Dahlia’s arm a light squeeze before leaving them both. 

She couldn’t keep her body from shivering as she kept her bounded hands close to her chest, watching John’s expression soften up. His blue eyes bright as he watched his brother leave them both alone, and quick to change back to his usual vile self. Sizing her up and getting into her ear, hissing against her ear with such hate “You will confess all petty acts of sin you have committed. No matter what you think or what my brother seems to believe..” He pulled her closer to him, keeping a firm grip on her when she tried to pull back. “You aren’t safe and you will not be treated any differently from your colleagues. And even when you think you’re done with all the rigorous and excruciating pain, we’ll see if you’ll beg for your atonement. Begging me to hear your confession.”

Easing the grip on her arms and turning her slightly to scan her face for any other sense of fear, Dahlia lifted her chin to look him in the eyes. Her bottom lips quivering in some attempt to show she wouldn’t be intimidated when she threw her head into his jaw. Bursting his lip open and likely bruising the area. John quickly caught himself from stumbling as he groaned from anger and held his face. 

The peggie to her side was quick to react when he slammed the end of his rifle into her back and kicked her while she was down. Hitting her once in the ribs, but stopped by the Baptist. “That’s enough.” He demands, crouching to run his hand on her back when she winced and whimpered on the ground. Trying to push herself up with so little success. John sighing and shifting his head to the side, “If the Deputy wishes to expose her sins to us this way, then who are we to stop her?” He helps her up, smacking his lips as his rotten eyes crinkled together to glare.

At this moment, Dahlia couldn’t hide the rage she felt. Among the pain. Her jaw tensed and brows scrunching together when she spat at the ground. John’s eyes fixed on hers before pulling her to her feet, informing her attacker “The Deputy will ride with me, I have a different idea..” Her eyes snapped at him as he went on, “I’m sure my brother will have an idea on how to have you so compliant.” 

She didn’t have any words to respond, but her lovely face paled at the words. Jacob was a monster, and she had already been through his trials twice. She already saw and knew what he was capable of, how he already twisted her and poor Pratt’s minds. And that was the worst fate she could think of.

Before Dahlia could say anything, John just nodded to another Peggie. Wasting no time and shoving her into the truck, which had to be a three seater. Meaning there was no getting away from John when he and the other man crawled in the truck as she struggled to put her safety belt on. Shooing the cultist in the driver side away when she finally hears the click. 

John just quietly laughs to himself as he does the same. Giving the strap a light pull for security before reaching his arm behind her seat and instructing the driver to head on. Driving behind the convoy to that split off when they came to a dirt road. The driver took a left to the main road, the main closely watching the road for any resistance members. And waving to Peggie checkpoints and roadblocks.

Dahlia kept her gaze on the road at first, trying to avoid looking at John. Her eyes flickered around the truck. Looking for anything to give her some advantage, while John had turned on the radio. _ Keep Your Rifle By Your Side  _ playing, the driver tapping his thumb on the wheel to the beat. She looked at him and saw a small smile on his face while he mouthed the words, glancing up to the Eden’s Gate symbol on his forehead. She looks down when he glances at her. Dahlia quickly noticed one thing, he didn’t have his seatbelt on. She looked up to him when he focused on driving.

John was quiet, but his presence was loud. How he shifted and huffed. Clearing his throat from time to time. She just ignored him and kept her head turned to the other way. 

They had reached the border. The deputy needed to think quickly on how she was going to escape this. Jacob’s chosen and hunters letting them pass through, some laughing and some congratulating their Baptist on such a feat,  _ capturing the Father’s lost and havoc weakening soul _ . 

Dahlia kept her head as they passed through. John smiling to himself, absorbed from the praise of his people and his petty victory. Paying no attention when she shifted her body a little, her back a little to him. She rested her head on the seat, keeping her eyes fixed on the driver's side. 

“Rest while you can, Deputy. We will be at the Vet’s Center soon enough.” John scoffs out, likely taunting her again and reminding her of her fate. She only hoped she would have the right chance to come up with the right course of action. Another cultist song playing, this time  _ The World is Gonna End Tonight _ .

The truck passed a small drop, a hill downward into some trees when John said something else, “We’ll see how strong you think you are. I said you would beg me to accept your confession.” She surveyed the wooded area as they continued driving. Secluded and completely heavy with large and heavy trees. Perfect cover from prying eyes.

Dahlia turned her head to him, saying her first words to John. Her voice soft but stern, “I don’t beg, John. And I won’t ever beg you.” She tells him, his sly smile dropping when he heard her speak. His lips pressing together while he grit his teeth.

She was fast to think and reached over to the steering wheel. Pulling it and pushing as the driver tried to take control, John trying to pry her off. Only take the truck’s control worse as they swerved hard off the road and into the woods.

The truck's right front end hitting a tree and another. Like a pinball machine, it violently hit trees, but the truck already started tipping and flipping from the steep hill. 

Some yelling and groaning. Dahlia couldn’t keep her wits when she hit her head on John’s and the chaos. She felt completely dazed again from the extreme pounding the truck took, and the last thing she remembered when she was knocked unconscious was John’s grip on her collar and some disoriented lines of the song on the radio.

**** **_They'll be begging for forgiveness_ **

**_'Cause the world is gonna end tonight_ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took so much longer than I wanted. Been a bit down lately so sorry if it sounds like it!  
> BUT please enjoy! <3

The ringing, a loud and yet overwhelming ringing filled the deputy's ears. She yet again felt distorted and unclear. Her head felt full and a banging headache boomed in her ears. Her hair stuck to her skin as she felt something drip from her head. Likely another head wound. 

The suffocating smell of smoke woke her when and she quickly remembered the incident. She caused the truck to lose control in some piss poor attempt to escape being taken back to the monster of the Whitetail Mountains. Back to the Veteran’s Center. 

Dahlia frantically came to and her hands wildly moving around to grab anything, looking _down_ and out the windshield. Letting her still bounded arms hang mid-air as she gathered her bearings and seeing the collar of her shirt was torn from when John had grabbed her. Her long, black hair hanging and swaying when she looked around and realized the truck had rolled over in her attempt to escape. Tires up and its passengers hung upside down.

Turning to her fellow passengers; first to the driver, but didn’t see him hanging. Instead, he was mangled and flat on the roof of the car. His eyes staring out to the lit trees. Dahlia felt a rush of fright when she remembered her fellow unwanted companion, John Seed. Her blood filled head snapped to her right to see the Baptist worse for wear. Blood dripped from a gash along his forehead, some even coming from his nose. Likely from when their heads bashed into one another. She saw his ridiculously flashy sunglasses were smashed underneath the dead peggie. His slicked hair was now out of place. Still stuck together, but stands hung along his pale face.

The handsome man, so many flocked to or feared, now battered just like any other fool. Dahlia took the sight of the broken up man as a reminder that he was no god. No matter what he or his family did to her.

Dahlia flinched when she saw his lids of his eyes twitch along with his tattooed hands. She felt a strange relief that he wasn’t dead, but then back to the problem at hand. Still hanging like meat and only a matter of time before a search party came looking for John and his prized prisoner. Jacob would likely send out his hunters, and that was something that put the fear of God into her heart. But John waking up and she having no weapons and even being still cuffed was more the pressing issue. And to add to the pile, she could smell gas. Dahlia could only pray to the higher beings to get her out of the truck before it could go up in flames. Bringing back horrid memories.

Her jaw felt stiff as she tried to stretch the aches. Looking around her then to the buckle for her safety belt; if she unclipped it, the dead man would break her fall. And she could likely get his pistol strapped to his hip. But without something to cut her bindings, it wouldn’t be easy to use a gun. Dahlia would just worry about that when the time came. 

Maneuvering and awkwardly reaching for the buckle, her eyes snapping when she heard John groan. Hastily unbuckling and falling hard. The dead provided no comfort as she dropped on him. Her small body ached, and she felt her wrist muscle twist when she moved to her belly to crawl out. Through quick and painful movements, Dahlia removed the pistol from the peggie, carefully tossing it out the broken window on John’s side. Thanking God for the gun not going off. 

Dahlia flipped her hair from her face, glancing up at the hanging herald. The one that tried to drown her in some attempt to tease her or make an example out of her hours prior. Gazing up to his busted face, to his chest. Seeing the haunting slash along his chest over another scar, _sloth_ , carved into his would be smooth skin. The deputy didn’t notice this when he was shoving her into the river. She assumed it was a cult thing. She had seen cult _vips_ with sins riddled along their skin. Joseph had sins along his body and displayed them for the world to see. She never missed them when he was hovering over her so much. Always taking the chance to speak with her when he could. Her times high on Bliss, he was there with Faith when they both tried to convince her to join them.

_Fucking asshole,_ she thought as her eyes wandered him some more, _I’m sure when he goes to prison, girls will still want to fuck him._ She huffs and groans at her own thoughts. But stops when she notices a switchblade on his belt. One that she can use for her restraints. And even noticing the bunker key wrapped around his neck while it hung. 

A risk, an anxiety-inducing risk when he could wake up any moment. Taking the key would be a win, but that would be more physical contact with him than she could bear. Yet it would be worth it if it gave her an advantage and access to his personal bunker. She could get to Joey, her fellow deputy. 

Dahlia took a deep breath, holding it as she shifted to her back; an uncomfortable position considering she was on top of a dead man. Reaching up as best as she could. The deputy would take the knife first, then attempt her luck at the key.

She heard Nick once said John probably thought he was the hardest motherfucker in all of hope county keeping that key around his neck. But she saw Jacob did the same. Thinking that it would be safe on them when no one would dare touch the Seeds. Let alone Jacob or John. 

When the woman had the knife in her hand, she tried carefully to pull it from his belt without disrupting his unconsciousness. But it was difficult with her hands bound, and she unintentionally tugged harder. The man made slight movements and groaned at the pain of his face, his hands balling into tight fists, and she felt the panic wash over her.

Pulling the knife hard; fighting him off when his eyes shot open and wasted no time to react. Reaching out and grabbing her. Yelling and curses being thrown as she slips from his grasp, crawling out the window. 

He tried to reach for his buckle, “Deputy! You get me out or else-” he let out a pained sob. Muttering something about his ribs. She sat on her knees and flipped the custom knife over, seeing an Eden’s Gate cross engraved and his initials as well. She gripped the dark wood handle and pressed the button. The blade rushed out. She jumped when it shot out, but John’s cursing made her rush to cut the zip ties that restrained her. 

Rubbing her bruised and bloodied wrists when the ties dropped to the ground. Reaching for the firearm by her side, Dahlia stood up to her feet. Taking off her tattered shirt and tying the sleeves around her waist. Leaving her with a white t-shirt she borrowed from Shaky. 

John still called out her title. Demanding she get him out and at one point insulting her. Calling her a _wretched little thing_. Slipping the gun in her waistband, she turned on her feet to look at the man. 

His enraged gaze, a hateful glare wandering her body. She tried hard to keep her smile from seeing him so helpless. She put her hands on her hips, “What was that, earlier? About begging?”

He let out a scowl and a huff, keeping his eyes on hers. Tossing his head toward her with a scoff, “Too early for that _pride_ , Deputy. The night’s not over..” he was right, but she ignored him. Feeling the bumps and bruises on her face as he cursed again. “You’ll pray it’s me and not my brother’s _hunters_ that catch you out there.” He spits out the threat, “You’ll learn soon enough, I am the kindest of my family.” Testing her patience. But she won this one and would not let the likes of him taunt her when he was hanging there.

“Well.. I don’t believe that.. Besides, your brother hasn’t tried to drown me just to show he has balls.” She snaps at him. Fixing her hair out of her face, “Maybe you’ll be lucky those hunters find you before something takes a bite out of you.” She goes on while putting her hair up and then surveying her surroundings as Dahlia was ready to leave John to the elements. If the wolves caught him, so be it. If Jacob’s men found him, oh well. All she wanted to do was get out of the region or make it to the Wolf’s Den. 

John scoffs with a light laugh, “Hopefully, it doesn’t bite too hard. Who else will save you?”

A disgusted groan leaves her lips, “Hopefully it does. I sure don’t need _you_ to save me.” She turned her back to him to reach back for the gun she had, pulling back from the chamber to make sure it was loaded. “Maybe I could just kill you and take your key.” She stated. But rolling her eyes when he reminded her she would’ve killed him by now. That she was a foolish girl not to. And he was right. She should kill him but she hasn’t; why would she with him already incapacitated and defeated? She always tried to avoid killing anyone unless a Peggie spotted her, and she had no choice. She always heard it from Dutch for her lack of force, how she hesitated taking outposts.

Destroying property and goods? Easy. Assassinating cultists while they lounged and slept? She fell short in that category. Jacob would call her weak for that, but she didn’t see it so. 

“If you want this key, you’ll need to take it.” He called out to her. Interrupting her focus. 

Dahlia still kept her back to him, looking around still as she responded, “If I try for that rotten key, I might as well just choke you.” Dahlia hushed herself for a moment, to keep in her smugness she was feeling. “Maybe if you **_beg_ **me, I’ll save you.” 

John grew quiet, likely thinking of something smart to say, but nothing came out yet. Stewing her words and Dahlia found herself again anxious about his silence, now thinking to herself it was time to move. Leave him as is and let the universe take over. 

Her attention snapped to the truck when she heard loud cackling and the more prominent smell of smoke. John called out again to her when the truck’s front was already engorged in flames. 

The roaring fire spread quickly and Dahlia froze in her tracks. The sounds of the flames pouring through her mind and bringing back the horrid thoughts that she had repressed for years. Watching as the fire quickly ravaged the area, and her lips shaking with tears down her face. Her body grew stiff when she stepped back, ready to flee.

Shouting and some thrashing came from John when he felt the heat of the flames surround him. Feeling the immense throbbing from his possibly busted ribs when he tried for the buckle of his belt. The loud cackling and popping of the metal and broken glass, growing louder when the fire spread. 

An overwhelming feeling of heat grew on his face when he saw enter the cab of the truck, already burning his deceased driver. The sickening smell of burning flesh and hair, he could gag. John already began coughing and let out loud groans when he reached down to his buckle. The excruciating pain circled his senses when he finally unclipped the safety belt and dropped to the bottom of the cab. The burning man caught his fall, but the terrible smell of deep smog caused the battered baptist to choke.

The mixture of pain and smoke clouded his senses; finding himself gasping for air and clarity. Feeling the fire on his shirt and expensive vest along with the burning heat.

With no thoughts in his hazed mind, John couldn’t find the strength to pull himself out to safety. Even if he could, he’d surely collapse and leave himself to the predatory wildlife. Or taken by Resistance members. Killed on sight or tortured.

Weak and distorted, the intense heat now on his skin. Before he could let out another cry for help, John felt something on his shoulders. Hands pulled him from his shirt and out the window. Out of the flames and into the dry, rough grass.

The small and familiar voice yelled at him to stay awake. The small smacks on his cheek brought him back to this moment. The wretched deputy was still dragging him from the burning car. Dropping to her knees over her, John watched her in a daze when he reached his smoke riddled hands up to her face when she patted down his clothes from the flames. Yelling to him in such a panic to remove his stupid vest. And he snapped to it when he’d realized embers attached themselves to it and went on burning through to his shirt. 

John sat up at her command and the two rushed to take off the burnt vest, throwing its tatters toward the truck. John didn’t pay the fire and nearby flames any attention when she watched it closely. 

He felt so bewildered, _Why would she do such a thing? Why did she even come back for me?_ So much confusion with such an act. One he did not trust. 

So when Dahlia took his hand and led him a few more feet from the burning vehicle, he didn’t hesitate going with her. The flames behind them raged on and ravaged the area; and when the truck finally combusted, John found himself embraced by the deputy as if she was protecting him. Protecting him from any further damage when she held him close to her chest. Her arms wrapped around him as the explosion boomed in their ears and John feeling stuck. Unsure how to feel and frozen when buried his face into her. Dahlia unaware of the foolish man when she just focused on the flames. 

The unsuspected deputy let out a small gasp when she felt John shoved her down to her back and held her down by her arms. Ignoring the surroundings when he kept her in place, shouting to her, “Why did you do that!”

Dahlia thrashed and wormed out of his hold when he went on to yell at her. Repeating his words till she tore her wrist from his grip. Landing a hard smack across his face as a reflex. The impact caught him off guard as he rolled off of her, getting to her feet and scrambling away from him. 

Shouting back to him, “What do you mean!” When he tried to shuffle closer, she drew the gun on her hip out and on him. Warning him, “Do not come any further, John Seed!”

He sat on his heels, letting out a soft frail exhale. Rolling his jaw in his hand and peered to her. Then slicking back his out of placed hair. As if keeping his appearance and making sure they still saw him as the terrible man he is. A small croak came from his lips, “Why.. why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Dahlia shook her head at his question. Her heavy eye darted around, “What do you mean?”

“You came back… and helped me. Why?” John quickly responded. His hand over his chest. Gripping the blue fabric of his dress grimy shirt. “You could’ve left me.. And you-you didn’t.” He points over to the vehicle. But his softened blue eyes made their way to hers. The gaze stuck on her reddening cheeks and shaken lips.

Her expression dropped, astonished. Baffled at the words. The gun dropped back to her side when she motioned to him, “That would’ve been a cruel thing to do. I couldn’t leave you like that. I-I had to help you.” 

John said nothing after. His brows coming together when he bottled her words up. Unsure of her reasoning. 

_Why save an enemy, one who's tried to harm you, without some end? Not without an ulterior motive.. Not without wanting something in return.._

John stood on his feet and put his hands up in surrender when the deputy drew her firearm on him again. Her small hands shaking as she kept her stance. John rested his hands on his chest when he offered to her, “You helped me… I will help you.”


End file.
